


from on high

by sabinelagrande



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Cock Warming, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, First Time, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Under-negotiated Kink, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: The Taskmaster throne has been replaced. The literal chair. Greg is suspicious.
Relationships: Alex Horne/Rachel Horne, Greg Davies/Alex Horne, Greg Davies/Alex Horne/Rachel Horne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	from on high

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizmo/gifts).



> Spent basically the entire year so far finishing an original work. Hello, how are you?

It starts out so incredibly benignly that Greg is baffled that it starts at all.

"Those are new chairs," Greg says to Andy. It's customary for them to move the Taskmaster and Assistant thrones when they need to do promo photos; it's just a different area of the studio where they do the still photography, and the furniture gives it continuity. However, these aren't the chairs from the previous seasons. These ones are somewhat less ostentatious, but more visually appealing, looking like an actual pair.

"Yup," Andy says.

"They're nice," Greg says, looking them over.

"They ought to be," Andy says. "Props insisted they didn't need to farm out the work, then they took bloody ages."

"What happened to the old ones?" Greg asks.

"Sold them, I think," Andy says.

"Sorry," Greg says. "I meant, why did we need new ones at all?"

"Oh," Andy says. "I have no idea, actually. Alex insisted upon it."

"Interesting," Greg says. Like he's been cued, Alex shows up. "What's with these chairs?"

Alex, because he's Alex, has a completely Alex reaction: he turns bright red and says "What chairs?"

Greg realizes instantly that one, there's something up with the chairs; two, he _has_ to find out what it is; three, he's going to regret it if he pursues it in front of Andy.

Luckily, or luckily since Andy doesn't leave, the photographer shows up. She immediately has them plop down in the chairs. "Ooh," Greg says, stretching. "Oh, this thing is nice."

"Do you like it?" Alex asks, a little too interested.

"Yeah," Greg says. He brings his hands down on the chair's arms. "It fits me. The other one was a bit small." He looks at Alex. "Yours alright?"

"Yes, of course," Alex says.

"Right," the photographer says. "Greg, if I can get you to lean forward-"

And that could be where it stops, a weird conversation they had; it is, of course, not, because Greg just doesn't have any interest in letting it be. It wouldn't be a mystery if Alex didn't act so fucking weird about it, but now it is.

This isn't some thing that haunts Greg for months, because he's alone with Alex not a week later. They're on a new campaign of trying to hang out together; Greg doesn't know if it's going to work, but it would be nice. He can be a bit of a lonely person sometimes. Alex has his own thing going, but if they could maybe carve out a little time for each other, it would be good.

Greg has not put it this way, because it sort of makes him sound pathetic.

They're chatting about the new series, making bets on who's going to be the worst at it, when the thrones float back to the top of Greg's mind.

"Listen, Alex," he says. "I know there's something weird about the thrones."

"They have drawers now," Alex says, volunteering the information a little too quickly. "You know, for storage."

"Right," Greg says. "And that's it, is it? They turn you on because you've seen their drawers?"

That is Alex's cue to laugh, if he wants to bury all this. This is the out that Greg is giving him. It's not really surprising that Alex doesn't take it.

"Turned on is a strong phrase," Alex says, picking at the label on his beer.

"I need clarification on basically everything," Greg says. "I really don't think you get off on furniture, although as long as you don't get splinters in your cock, I'd support you."

"I don't think you would," Alex says.

"I'd make fun of you, but I'm not so massively judgmental that a fetish would make me throw you out of my flat," Greg says, a little annoyed at the accusation.

"You say that now," Alex says, looking weary.

"Oh, fuck's sake," Greg says. "Will you just stop twisting all of this up and say what you mean?"

"I mean all of it," Alex says sharply. "The whole thing. When I act like I want to serve you, or like it doesn't matter if you hurt me as long as I get your attention, I fucking mean it."

"That, um," Greg says, stunned. "Well, I wasn't expecting to hear anything like that."

"I don't know why you weren't," Alex says.

"I still don't know what this has to do with chairs," Greg says, because he's hung up on it, something that seems finite, mundane, manageable, solvable.

"I had them change the thrones out because I was too tall," Alex says, sounding a little miserable.

"Because I wasn't tall enough," Greg says.

"No, I-" Alex says. "I needed to be small, or it wasn't going to work for me."

"Huh," Greg says, because he has no idea what else to say.

"You _have_ to know that this entire show is very kinky and everyone thinks the two of us are having sex," Alex says, not so much desperate as despairing.

"I don't know why you think I know that," Greg says, his eyebrows lifted.

"Jesus Christ," Alex says, running his hand through his hair. "I never should have told you any of this."

"You really should have," Greg says. "If you're getting off on just sitting next to me-"

"I'm not getting off on it," Alex says. "I know you don't understand, but if you could at least do me the kindness of not assuming I did this entire thing so I can be sexually aroused during my own programme."

Alex only refers to Taskmaster as strictly his when he's pissed off. When he's feeling good, it belongs to everybody, a beautiful shared creation, a happy accident. He's not feeling good, and Greg has to dig them out from it.

"So not getting off on it," Greg says, even though he meant it. "Enjoying it, being spiritually fulfilled by it, call it whatever you want. The point is you did it to please yourself." Alex slumps a little, looking gutted. "Jesus Christ, I'm not going to call the fucking cops, can you calm down? I'm just shocked."

"How can you _possibly_ be shocked?" Alex demands.

"Alex," Greg says, trying to hold on to his composure; he doesn't actually like yelling. "I don't know why you think it's fair to me to tell me you've been fantasizing about me, say I'm in on it, then get upset when I tell you I'm not."

Alex sighs. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Is this one of those idle fantasies you leave at the door, or do you actually want it to happen?" Greg asks, because apologies are not the direction he wants this to go. Alex freezes up, so he adds, "I just want you to be honest."

Alex doesn't respond for a long moment. "If you were interested at all, which you're not-"

"You don't get to put words in my mouth," Greg snaps, and Alex straightens in his seat. "Try again."

"I-if I thought you were interested," Alex says, much less steadily, "I would hope that you would want to pursue it. My assumption had been that you weren't, and after this conversation I've probably ruined it for myself as a fantasy-"

"What does Rachel think about all this?" Greg asks, and Alex doesn't look nearly as surprised as he'd expected.

"She knows, and she doesn't mind," Alex says. "You can ask her yourself or you can take my word, I wouldn't be offended either way."

Greg looks at him appraisingly, then pulls out his cell phone. He talks to Rachel fairly frequently, as it happens, and it's easy to find her number. He dials, looking Alex in the face in challenge as it rings.

"I can only give you a minute," Rachel says, when she picks up, sounding breathless. "I'm trying to stop Dara from running into the road with his pants literally on his head."

"I'm here with Alex," he says, not letting on what he's actually hearing.

"Yeah, I know," she says.

"He said something very interesting," he says. 

"Ohh," Rachel says. "You're faking him out, aren't you?"

"Exactly," he says, looking Alex up and down.

"Okay, wait until I finish saying this sentence and then chuckle knowingly," she says.

Greg laughs. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, there you go," Rachel says. "Now have a good time with what I'm not gonna say around the children. Text me and tell me how he did."

"Of course," Greg says. "Good night, darling."

Rachel laughs. "Yeah, you'll do fine. All my love, ta." There are indistinct noises of a scuffle before Greg hangs up.

Greg puts his phone back into his pocket, taking his time, shocked Rachel was so nonchalant about it. Alex has completely fallen for it, looking on edge. "What do you want, anyway?" Greg asks. "Apparently you like it when I-" A lightbulb goes on. "No. You don't like it when I humiliate you. You like it when I enjoy you being humiliated, whether I did it or not."

Alex's eyes are wide, and Greg thinks for a moment that he's missed the mark. Alex swallows hard. "Yes," he says quietly.

"Well, keep going," Greg demands. It's scary how easy it is to slip into it, maybe not quite the Taskmaster but someone who's trying to get into Alex's head, mess him up. "You like it when I treat you like my servant, is that it?"

"Yes," Alex says, and his chest is rising and falling like he's breathing quickly. "I want to serve you however you want me to."

To Greg, this is still more compelling than it is hot, fascinating but at a remove, like it's not even happening to him. "You lied to me and said it wasn't sexual," he says. "I'm giving you one chance to admit what you actually want."

Alex breathes in sharply. He looks like he might panic, but he manages not to. "I want you to use me in whatever way you see fit," he says. "I don't care where or what you what to do. I don't care if you hurt me. I-"

"Go on," Greg says, when Alex stalls out. "Tell me."

"I think about kneeling in front of your throne," Alex says, in a rush. "Just kneeling there with your cock in my mouth while you go about your business, waiting to be needed."

"You deserve to be humiliated if you're gonna act like that," Greg says. He can't quite believe the words that are coming out of his mouth, but somehow it doesn't feel weird, not like it should. "Just sitting there, good for nothing except keeping my cock warm. Might as well be a Fleshlight with a beard."

Alex looks struck; he doesn't look afraid or hurt, just dazed. "Yes, sir," he says.

Greg has no idea if he should take the step he's about to take. They've fallen into some weird thing, the two of them; Greg doesn't know what's going to happen when they climb out. "Get up," he says, and Alex immediately gets to his feet. "Get me another beer."

"Right away," Alex says, and he scurries off, not that it's a long way to scurry. This is where Greg could panic, but he just doesn't want to. He stays there instead, taking stock of himself. He's halfway hard and he doesn't really know why. He doesn't even find Alex particularly attractive, but suddenly the idea of Alex at his feet sounds so obvious that he can't picture doing anything else.

He hears the sound of Alex uncapping the beer, then his footsteps, then Alex comes into view. He walks over, rushing a bit, and presents the bottle to Greg. Greg takes a long sip of it, making Alex wait. "Why are you just standing there?" Greg says. "You know where a slut like you goes."

Alex is breathing shakily, but he lowers himself to his knees between Greg's legs. Greg absolutely leaves him to dangle, sipping his beer and just watching him. Alex looks indecisive, which isn't new, but he reaches out and undoes Greg's jeans, which are becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. He pulls the waistband of Greg's briefs down over his cock; it strikes Greg that he's doing it in a very Alex way, arranging it all just so.

"You know what you're going to do for me," Greg says.

"Yes, sir," Alex says, and makes to dive in.

Greg puts a palm on his forehead, holding him off. "Look me in the eyes and say it."

Alex swallows hard. "I'm going to keep your cock warm for you as long as you like," he says, and a thrill goes up Greg's spine.

"And then what?" Greg says.

"And then I'll do anything you want," Alex says, sounding a little dreamy.

Greg lets him go. "Get to it."

Alex runs his tongue along Greg's cock, mapping it out, and Greg can't stop watching. It's almost delicate; not in the way that suggests Alex is squeamish, but that he cares about what he's doing, values it. Greg can't make his brain work that way, not at this point. This is a thing they're doing, swept into it, and any deeper significance is going to have to come later.

Finally Alex takes his cock into his hand; he takes a breath, then opens his mouth wide, taking Greg's cock into his mouth. Greg makes a noise in the back of his throat. It's been a while since anyone's had their mouth on him at all, and the warmth, the wetness hits him heavily. He wants to thrust up, to grab the back of Alex's head, but he doesn't. That won't really go along with what they're trying to do here.

Alex adjusts, positioning himself so he can be at least marginally comfortable without sacrificing Greg's cock. He has his eyes shut, breathing through his nose unsteadily, his hands clenching and releasing in his lap for a moment before settling.

"Look at me," Greg says, sipping his beer, and Alex's eyes snap open. He stares up at Greg with such an incredible expression of longing, even though he's already sitting there with Greg's cock in his mouth. Greg doesn't know what to do, so he just sits there and looks back, taking another swallow from his bottle and making Alex sit there and be judged.

Alex isn't looking away, and Greg breaks first. He puts his hand on the back of Alex's head, pushing him down just so he doesn't have to look into his eyes anymore. Alex makes a noise, one that doesn't sound upset at all, and something about it finally hits Greg, that he's letting this happen, stepping over a line that he didn't really know was there to step over. It feels intense, unfamiliar; it also feels ridiculously fucking good, prickling in him like static electricity.

The control part feels good; the actual cock warming, at this point, feels like a lackluster blowjob, which is unfortunate. It strikes Greg that Alex has definitely never done this before, which makes neither of them who know how it's actually supposed to go. Greg sets his beer aside- he didn't actually want it, just wanted some stage business- and puts both his hands on the back of Alex's head, running his fingertips through Alex's short hair.

"Suck it," Greg says. "Just a little bit. You're not doing a very good job of keeping me entertained."

Alex says something, garbled, that probably didn't matter. He does as he's told, sucking gently, resting his hands on Greg's calves. 

"Better," Greg says, taking his hands away. It's much better, actually, more intense but not likely to make him come. He could just sit here and make Alex do this for as long as he wanted, and Alex would. Nothing is controlling it but Greg, Alex just his toy.

He isn't quite sure what he's supposed to be doing. This was public in Alex's fantasy, but they're just sitting in Greg's flat. He could watch television, perhaps, but the chance of seeing someone he knows makes that particular risk unappealing. He picks up his phone instead; maybe he'll play sudoku or something, something that makes enough noise that Alex will know he's being ignored.

"Know."

It's kind of hard to remember his passcode, but he does it. There's a text message, and he's too curious not to see who it is, hoping it won't be that someone has passed away or he's forgotten to pay a bill or something.

Somehow it doesn't shock Greg to find out that it's from Rachel. _sry I had to cut off, hope you have a good time <3 _

Greg is still a little shocked that Rachel is so okay with this, but he suddenly has a devious, deviant idea. _We're having a good time right now, wanna pop in?_

 _that's a lovely offer but I'm not exactly nearby,_ she replies.

Greg knows Alex can hear him typing; he holds the phone a little closer to Alex's head just to fuck with him. _I thought you could call,_ he writes, but he swiftly starts typing, _No pressure if you're not interested in m_

The phone is already ringing.

Alex seizes up, but interestingly, he doesn't take Greg's cock out of his mouth. "Wonder who this could be," Greg says. "Well, as long as you stay completely quiet, it never has to matter to you, does it." He answers the phone. "Hello, dear."

"Tell me everything," Rachel says.

Greg laughs. "Should I put you on speaker?" Alex gasps, chokes. He obviously didn't see this coming, and Greg wonders if he's being cruel in a hot way or just regular cruel.

"Oh, yeah," she says.

"Hold on," Greg says, taking the phone away from his face and hitting the button. He fists his free hand in Alex's hair. "Just so you're aware, I've got Alex on his knees in front of me, and he's got my cock down his throat."

"You move fast," Rachel says. Alex slumps, very obviously relieved, and Greg lets him go, stroking his hair.

"Not really," Greg says. "He's just keeping me vaguely entertained while I talk to you."

"Interesting," Rachel says. "I figured you'd be fucking his face."

Greg cannot reconcile those words coming out of Rachel's mouth. "I could facetime you if you like," he says, though he can't believe he's saying it. "You know, if you wanted a proper visual."

"Ooh," Rachel says. "Yeah, let's do it."

It is only as Greg is hitting the button that he realizes he just offered to let someone watch him get sucked off, but everything in this whole situation has just kept rolling, like it was logical that it was happening, even though it is not.

Rachel's face pops up, and she's grinning. "Good evening," Greg says.

"Hey," she says. "Having a good time?"

"It's not terrible," he says.

"Come on," she says. "Show me."

There's really no going back; there hasn't been for a while. Greg flips the camera, angling it down so that the point of view is Alex, poised there, still gently sucking. "Look up," Greg says, and when Alex doesn't do it immediately, he puts his hand on Alex's head, tilting it back.

From his vantage, Greg can still see Rachel's face. "Hey, darling," she says to Alex.

"Say hello," Greg says, because now something about it is thrilling, Alex in the palm of his hand, debased just because Greg wants it to happen. Alex tries to move, and Greg doesn't let him, leaving him to say something garbled, pitiful.

"Terrible diction," Rachel says. "So you're just sitting there? It seems like you could be having more fun."

"Alex gets off on it," Greg says. "Turns him on to be my little toy."

Greg instantly thinks he's gone too far, but Rachel laughs. "Oh, he loves that," she says. "He wants to be used so bad he can't handle it."

"Do you use him?" Greg asks.

"Of course," Rachel says, like it's obvious. "But it could never be enough for him. He'll take anyone who's ready to give it to him."

Talking like this is having an effect on Greg, along with the fact that Alex is, y'know, still sucking his cock. "I can give it to him a little harder, if you want to see," he dares to say.

"Yeah," she says breathily. "Show me."

Greg doesn't really need to do anything, because Alex hears it and takes it for permission. He starts moving his head, sucking Greg down as far as he can, sucking hungrily, noisily. Greg grabs him by the back of the head, guiding him, while he's trying to keep the camera still.

"He looks so good like that," Rachel says, sounding kind of dreamy. "He's going to hurt tomorrow, keeping that huge cock in his mouth for so long."

Greg's glad she can't see his face, because even in the middle of this, he could swear he blushes. "If he does, that's his own fault," he says.

"I know," Rachel says. She sighs. "I'm going to have to leave soon."

Greg slows Alex down so he can concentrate. "Why would you have to do that?"

"You turned me on too much," she says, playful and accusatory at once. "I have to go take care of it."

Greg flips the camera, angling the phone back up to look at Rachel face to face. "If you're leaving so you can get off, _please_ don't leave," he says, feeling a little desperate.

"Oh?" Rachel says, looking at him curiously.

"We've come this far," Greg says. It seems like it doesn't convince her. "I don't go around telling married women that they're gorgeous, but I would be more than pleased if this is leading towards watching you come." It's not quite enough, so he lowers the phone, putting the speaker next to Alex's face. "You tell her."

Alex's response is unintelligible except for the repeated word "please."

"Okay, fine," Rachel says. Her camera moves as she walks, then blurs as she apparently tosses it onto something. "Give me a minute," she calls.

"Did you know something like this would happen?" Greg asks Alex suspiciously.

Alex makes a muffled noise of negation and shakes his head.

"Do you want to breathe for a minute or something?" Greg asks. "I mean, very well done breathing through your nose all this time, but-"

Alex looks like he wants to say no, but he nods. Greg guides him back, and Alex takes a deep breath when his mouth is finally free. He looks ruined; there are tears at the corners of his eyes, and his lips are swollen.

"If this isn't what you expected, we can stop," Greg says. Alex shakes his head vehemently, even though he doesn't seem to be able to say anything; he's such an odd man. Greg puts a hand on the side of his head, tipping him over so his cheek is resting on Greg's thigh. "You can have until Rachel comes back."

Rachel doesn't take long; Greg spends the time stroking Alex's hair, but he doesn't hesitate to put Alex back where he goes. "You've got my husband, so I needed some things," she says, when the camera comes back to her.

"Like what?" Greg says, not sure if he should sound as interested as he does.

"I think you know exactly," Rachel says.

"I doubt it," Greg says. "C'mon, Rachel. All I've got is this slut keeping me vaguely entertained. You're something really worth seeing."

Rachel huffs a laugh, setting the phone down in front of her on the bed. "I don't know why I'm being weird about this."

"Would it make you feel better if I flipped the camera?" Greg says.

"Not yet," Rachel says, and then she's pulling off her shirt, dropping it on the floor. She's not wearing a bra, and Greg can't look away, admiring the sight of her. Her breasts are small, tipped with pink nipples, and it is just really a shame he can't bury his face in them. "You do make a girl feel appreciated."

"Hmm?" Greg says, distracted, rolling his hips up slowly. "Oh. Right. Yes, great breasts, outstanding, would recommend."

Rachel laughs in surprise. "Thanks, I'll add it to my reviews."

Greg isn't sure how to broach the subject, but he does anyway. "I can work with the answer either way, but do you want to watch me and Alex get off, or do you want to have phone sex?"

"I thought you wanted to have phone sex," Rachel says, looking surprised.

"I would love to have phone sex, but if you'd rather get a sex show instead, I'll do that for you," Greg says.

"I think there's a good way to split the difference," Rachel says, and she takes one of her breasts into her hand, massaging it, rolling her nipple between her fingers. "I'll just need some good footage of how much I'm turning you on."

Greg flips the camera, to his hips working steadily, his cock sliding in and out of Alex's mouth. He flips it again. "I am definitely not an impassive observer," he says. "I don't know how I could be."

"Why is that?" Rachel says, running her palms over her breasts, temporarily hiding them, which is the worst.

"Because you're fucking gorgeous, and I'd do anything to kiss every inch of you," Greg says. "Starting with those tits."

"Is that what you like?" Rachel asks, and she keeps playing with her nipples.

Greg flips the camera. He's moving faster, guiding Alex with a hand on the back of his neck. "What do you think?" He flips back. "But I don't mind if you want to go a little farther. Or, honestly, a lot farther."

Rachel sighs, slipping her hand into the waistband of her pants. "I'm dripping wet watching the two of you," she says. "If I don't get something in me, I'll die."

Alex makes a choked noise as Greg's hips buck up suddenly. "Jesus Christ, if you keep saying shit like that, I'm gonna get in my car."

"Not tonight," Rachel says, and Greg bites his lip at the implication. She hops out of frame, and Greg switches the camera, just so she won't come back to Greg staring longingly at where she isn't. He takes the opportunity to fuck up into Alex's mouth, enjoying it as Alex catches up with him, gives him more.

Rachel comes back completely naked, kneeling in front of the camera with her knees spread, and Greg makes an involuntary noise. "I see I'm having some effect," Rachel says.

Greg flips back to his face. "If you were having any more effect, Alex would be wiping his face off right now."

"That sounds like a challenge," Rachel says. She very much has a dildo in her hand, and Greg is at once anticipatory and extremely envious.

"God, I want to see you take that thing," Greg says, his brain too scrambled to make it sexy. It is on the large side, and he really wants to watch every inch slide into her.

"Challenge accepted," Rachel says. She looks down, adjusting, then sinks down onto it partway. It goes in so smoothly, it's like nothing.

"Now I want to see you take my cock," Greg says.

"Mmm," Rachel says, pushing the rest of it up into her, the dildo disappearing all the way inside of her body. "Maybe that can be arranged."

"Jesus Christ," Greg says, as she starts to work it in and out, her free hand rubbing her clit. He flips the camera, because it seems like the thing, give her something good to watch while she gets herself off. It's so hard not to just thrust into Alex's mouth as fast as he can, get off immediately.

"That's so hot," Rachel says. "I want to watch you ruin him."

"What do you want me to do?" Greg asks.

"Grab him by the hair and fuck his face until he chokes," Rachel says. "I want to see you treat him wrong."

"Why?" Greg says, even though he's already getting a grip on Alex's hair.

"Because he's a filthy slut inside," Rachel says. "And he deserves to get treated the way he wants to be."

"Do you think he wants it like this?" Greg says, thrusting hard into Alex's mouth; Alex gags, but he doesn't try to get away.

"Yeah," Rachel says breathily, moving the dildo faster, and Greg doesn't even know where to look.

"Are you gonna come if I fuck his face?" Greg asks.

"Yes," Rachel says, almost a whine.

"Then I better get to it," Greg says, and he stops holding back. The only thing that's hard is keeping the phone steady so Rachel can see. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to use Alex, to treat him like a fucktoy. Alex just takes it, gagging and choking but not moving, not trying to get away.

"Such a little slut," Greg says, through clenched teeth. "Take that cock. That's what you were meant to do."

"Yes," Rachel sighs. She's working her hips, really fucking her toy, and Greg wants badly for her to be here, so that he could have both of them.

"Come on," Greg says, in a different tone of voice. "You look so fucking good, I want to watch you come, _please_ , Rachel-"

"You first," she says breathlessly. "I want to watch you come."

Greg moans. "Tell me where."

"All over his face," Rachel says. "I want to watch it- oh god- drip down and cover him."

"Shit," Greg says through clenched teeth. "You heard her, boy. You wanted to be needed? This is what I need you for."

Alex groans around Greg's cock. He sucks harder, taking Greg all the way to the base. It's like his whole body is begging, like he wants nothing more in the world than to please. He's making desperate noises, trying to do more, get more, and finally it's too much. Greg pulls out, stroking himself quickly, ready to go at any second.

"Please," Alex says, his voice soft and hoarse, ruined, and he lets his mouth hang open. There's no stopping after that, and Greg comes with a shout, striping Alex's face. He makes sure that Rachel can see every instant of it, and he can hear it when she comes, crying out.

Greg feels like he's run ten marathons. He can't remember how to say words; Alex is just kneeling there, panting, and Rachel is on the phone screen, not saying anything either. For some reason it feels weird to leave her staring at Alex, so Greg flips back to himself.

"Well that was something," Rachel says.

"Yep," Greg says.

"I'm going to hang up," Rachel says. "Keep Alex overnight, okay? He's going to need to recover."

"Right," Greg says, glancing down at him.

"Goodnight," Rachel says, and she kisses her fingers and holds them out before ending the call.

Greg is running on autopilot, just trying to put one foot after the other. "Here," he says, pulling off his t-shirt. He dabs the worst of the come off of Alex's face and drops the shirt on the floor. Alex seems like he's still not really there, so Greg manhandles him onto the sofa, putting Alex next to him, and putting an arm around Alex's shoulders, holding him close.

He realizes, at this point, he forgot Alex might want to come; he's filling out the front of his trousers, and there's a dot of what might be precome at the head of his cock. "Do you want me to take care of that?" Greg asks.

Alex looks like he doesn't quite understand the question. "Whatever you want."

Greg can't do it right now, the obsequience thing, so he pulls Alex into his lap, situating him across it. "Put your arms around my neck," he says, because he's not above enforcing such a thing. Either way, Alex does it, holding on to him, his head on Greg's shoulder. Greg gets Alex's trousers open, pulling Alex's cock free of his pants.

"You did a good job," Greg says, stroking him; he's not even sure why he says it, just that it feels like it needs to get said.

"Thank you," Alex says, in a small voice, and Greg kisses him on the head.

"Proud of you," Greg says. He moves his hand faster, and Alex moans. "That's it. Don't worry about it. Just come for me."

It doesn't take much longer before Alex is coming; it mostly ends up on Greg, but he's not presently wearing a shirt, so whatever. Alex doesn't make an attempt to move, just stays there holding on to Greg. Greg has absolutely no idea what to do, but he's taking the tack that he has for the past few hours, of just damning the torpedos.

"I'm basically out of food," Greg says, because it is in his blood to worry about the superficial in order to deal with things of substance. "That means we'll have to order something, if you are staying. We could get a curry, or there's a new Ethiopian place, or, I don't know, sandwiches are always an option. Of course you're not required to stay, but I do have a spare toothbrush you can have, and of course you would fit anything I have to sleep in, though you'd have to do up the drawstring pretty tightly. Before you leave in the morning, the coffee place around the corner does good lattes, or naturally I could make you some tea, or there's that weird store that only seems to sell juice-"

"I'd like to stay," Alex says finally.

"Good," Greg says, more relieved than he realized he would be. He looks down at the state of them. "We are, in a physical sense, disgusting. I think maybe you should go get cleaned up first, and I'm going to make you some tea with honey and whiskey. You don't have to like it, but you sound like you stuck a brillo pad down your throat."

"Okay," Alex says.

Greg doesn't know what to do; Alex sounds weird, and he honestly doesn't know if it's the kind of weird he's supposed to sound like. In a last ditch effort, Greg pulls Alex to him, kissing him. He tries not to do it too hard, but Alex opens up for him, kissing back. He feels Alex relax against him, and it makes him relax too, that he didn't break anything, that he didn't break Alex.

They part, and Greg runs his hand over Alex's hair. "I like Ethiopian food," Alex offers.

"That's solved, then," Greg says, and at least something is. "I meant it when I said you should clean up."

Alex snorts, but he stands up, headed in the direction of Greg's bathroom. The two of them need to have such a conversation, and Greg doesn't know how any of it will go.

But maybe first a change of clothes, and then there's that tea for Alex. Maybe right now, one step at a time; that's what it's felt like all night, one thing that flowed into the next thing that led into another thing. Maybe all he can do is just follow that path.

It's not, but things seem to work out anyway.


End file.
